


A Reservation at the Metal Motel

by MegsChaos



Series: A Reservation at the Metal Motel [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prison, Companionable Snark, Drama, Eventual Smut, Fights, Gallavich, Gang Violence, Gangs, Humor, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Pillow Talk, Sassy, Sexual Humor, Slow Build, Snark, Violence, prison bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegsChaos/pseuds/MegsChaos
Summary: An AU where Mickey ends up in prison for the first time and for five years to boot.  He thinks he has this covered - he's done time in juvie and in Cook County.  But this is prison and this is the big time, but still - his family is there.  Even if the idea of being locked up in the same block as his dad makes his skin crawl.  But against his plan - he is not sent to the same cell block as his other family members, he is sent to a block where he has to share a cell with a smart mouthed redhead.  But this redhead doesn't come alone - he has a group of inmates that are just as annoying and intrusive as his family outside the prison walls.  So not only does the lone Milkovich have to navigate the intricacies of prison politics and life, but he has to deal with all the shit that comes with being adopted into this make-shift family structure.  But when things go sideways because he crosses a line - will he be up for what it takes to make things right and accept help?





	1. Check In Day

There was something ominous about the clanking of the metal gates. He had done time in juvie, he had done time in county. But this was the state prison - this was a bigger deal. But he wasn’t the first or last to end up here in his family. He wasn’t so worried about staying alive as he was about his sister forgetting to put money on his books. Five years was long enough - doing it without smokes was going to be a pain in the ass.

Rubbing his hands together in the chill of late fall in Illinois, he listened as the bus ground to a halt in front of intake. He barely heard the prick with a badge yelling at them to line up single file and head inside. The khaki scrubs and heavy coat were state issued, as were the silver bracelets and anklets that the transfers were wearing. It was a far cry from the old t-shirts and sweaters that Mickey would be wearing at home right now.

Heading out of the bus he stood in line and listened to the idiots tell them what was going to be happening. It all seemed standard and of little consequence - checking in, cell assignment, meeting up with the officer of your bay….no tolerance to violence, drugs….blah, blah, blah. It took a while longer for Mickey to get checked in because they had to log all his tattoo’s into their database and then he got to sit and wait.

And waiting was not his strongest suit. After awhile he narrowed his eyes at the officer that was clicking away at a computer as the other transfers found their way out to other cells.

“I ain’t stayin’ in here longer just ‘cause you all can’t find me a fucking cell to crash in.” He muttered, slouching in the char, a dark brow going up at the exasperated look that comment got him from the woman behind the screen, “What? It’s the damn truth.”

“Mr. Milkovich, you will get a room and believe me when I say - we don’t want you here a moment longer than necessary. Now sit there and kindly shut up.”

It was another twenty minutes before an officer called his name - or rather his number, “Inmate 2569A367 - Mikhail Aleksandr Milkovich.” 

“Dude, you mangled it. Just stick with the numbers.” gathering up his stuff he followed Officer Dumbass along cement walk ways and noticed how the smell of recycled air, humanity and crappy ass food seemed to surround him here too. Everything was loud and sound carried and echoed. The voices and the dull roar that was this many people in a confined area...it was never going to be quiet. Not by a long stretch. Coming from his home - and the Southside in general - too much quiet made Mickey jumpy. 

They left the main building and headed out through a rec area. Glancing around at what would be his outdoor area for the next chunk of his life - it was refreshing to see that there was more than just a basketball court. THere was work out equipment, a track and what looked like a baseball field off in the far distance.

“Hey, is that a baseball field down there?” He asked, actually genuinely curious. The guard turned and looked at him with a raised brow and a smirk.

“You like baseball? Yeah, we try to run games once it starts getting warmer each block gets a team and provided you aren’t in restriction, you get a little more outdoor time to play.”

There was the catch. He couldn’t be on restriction. Well, fuck. The Ukrainian punk couldn’t remember a time in a lock up he hadn’t been on restriction at some point. Well, maybe, if he had a good reason he could put a little more effort into playing nice. A wry grin tugged at his lips. He didn’t know who he was kidding - he couldn’t even think about that with a straight face.

“Welcome to Block C.” Suddenly they were in front of another large and imposing cement structure and there were locks clicking and whirring. Mickey just wanted to get into a cell, drop his shit off and get the lay of the land. He saw that there were two tiers of cells and they were surrounded by walls of shatterproof glass and steel. Inside were tables and televisions on the main level with cell doors open and people mingling. Even from here he could tell there were several very distinct groups of people.

“HEY, MIlkovich.” the loud voice brought him back into the moment.

“You don’t have to yell.” his drawl was bordering on insubordinate, but all he got was a motion from New Guard to have a seat, “Park it. And let's see here….”

Mickey sat and watched as the tall brunette woman took a seat across from him and eyed him curiously, “Any relation to Iggy Milkovich?”

“My brother.”

There was a snort and a shake of her head, “Well, let's hope you and I get along better.” Her eyes scanned the documents in his file and then she looked at him, “Welcome to C Block. I am the CO of this entire building - Officer Brunswold. We are lower security block. If you play nicely with others - you can stay here. If you don’t - I will ship your Southside ass to another block in a heartbeat.” She smirked and opened his file, “Now for a Milkovich you are coming to visit us a bit late in your teens, that seems a bit more impressive. And court ordered Anger Management. Any classes you want to take?”

All she got from him on the last comment was an eye roll, “I am good.”

“If you were - then you wouldn’t have gotten caught.”

That almost got a smile out of him, but instead he sat there looking at the CO like he was bored and about to sleep while she was talking to him. Which was pretty much what she had anticipated. She could always tell the ones that had been in the system - or had had family in the system. They came in here like this was old hat. Like her little speech was nothing new to them. Officer Brunswold wished she could whack them with her file to snap that look off their faces. But that was ‘inappropriate’ and could be ‘abusive’. Maybe they would work on keeping their files smaller and out of her cell block if she was able to do that.

“We have a general code of conduct. I call it the ‘Don’t be a dumbass’ policy. Do what you are here to do, take your classes, keep your nose clean and then get the hell out of my jail.” She pointed the file at him and shook her head, “I mean it Milkovich. I don’t want to be seeing you in disciplinary hearings.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yes Officer Brunswold.” His tone was flat and his answer almost robotic. But for some reason the response got him another eye roll and some notes written in his file, “Your cellmate is currently at work, but Officer Nelson here will get you in there.”

When his State issued accessories were finally removed, Mickey found himself rubbing his wrists and glaring at them as they were locked back up for the officers use only. And a call of ‘Door opening.’ came over a speaker and the door opened to the cell block itself. While still noisy - it wasn't anything like the main administration part of the building. There were conversations and games going on all over the place. And he could feel the eyes on them as they made their way through the common area, up the stairs and to a cell that was very obviously one half occupied.

Mickey set his stuff down and didn’t say a word as the officer left. He eyed the bottom bunk and sighed - taken. He was not the tallest inmate ever and getting into the top bunk wasn’t always easy. But he threw the mattress and blankets up on top and made the bed - ashe had been told to do. No use in bucking all the rules all at once. He turned at the sound of someone in the doorway.

There stood a guy, about two inches taller than him with soft curly brown hair, a roundish face and chocolate colored eyes. There was a smile on the dry looking lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he was leaning in the doorway casually and his hands were in plain view. So there didn’t seem to be any warning signs, “Hey, names Trevor.” He glanced a around and seemed to be trying to size Mickey up, “Considering me the Cell Block C Tier 2-A Welcome Wagon.”

Now this was new. Mickey hopped down from straightening out the covers and eyed Trevor skeptically, “A welcome wagon huh? That’s some new shit.”

“Well, it’s nicer than saying I am nosey as fuck all.” Trevor said with a shrug, “And we haven’t had a new face here in a few weeks so…” a hand waved dismissively, “I am sick as fuck of looking at those asshats down there and nothing new has happened of late.” He tilted his head and studied Mickey, “And then here you come all new and …”

“Out comes the fucking welcome wagon.” The black haired man rolled his eyes, “Name’s Mickey.”

“Well Mickey, welcome to the Illinois State Penn. We hope you don’t expect a mint on your pillow with your turndown service at night.” 

“Well, then fuck I am canceling my reservation.” came the reply, complete with the thick Southside drawl that made Trevor roll his eyes.

“Oh fuck all another damn Southsider.” Trevor moved out of the way of the door and motioned Mickey to follow him, “Come on, I will introduce you around. And maybe when we are done you will be to meet our other person of poor baseball taste.”

“Leave the Sox the hell alone. You guys get lucky one damn year….” Mickey grumbled, “At least we didn’t get fucking cursed by a barnyard animal that eats fucking cans.”

All that got him was a middle finger over Trevor’s shoulder as he led him down and back into the common area. He pointed out the Nazi’s (“Crazy son’s of bitches”), the Latino’s (“Best weed on the inside.”), the African Americans (“If you want drugs other than weed….”), and then the Evangelicals (“Judgemental fuckers.”), the Atheists (“Think prison hipsters.”) and finally, “The rest of us sit over here and try to steer clear of the craziest of the crazies.”

One of the Neo-Nazi’s, a man in his mid-thirties with a shaved head and beady looking eyes called out, “The fuck you say?”

“I said it’s a lovely day to play checkers Frank.” Trevor said louder as he flipped the man off, “Enjoy yourself over there…” He looked at Mickey and rolled his eyes. Just as they were about to sit the doors beeped and about ten new members entered, all were sweaty and shirtless. They were greeted with some catcalls that earned some bows and more than a few middle fingers. Headed right towards them were three of the ten men. One of them was black, another was asian, but leading the small group was a red head.

Trevor grinned,”Damn boys - let us know next time and we will see if we can get you some intro music.”

“Well, as long as it’s got a good beat.” the Asian guy said with a grin, and then he raised a brow at Mickey, “They actually sent us a new guy? Well, hell….”

Trevor grinned, thrilled it seemed to have met him before some of the others. Mickey had to admit in that moment he almost felt like a prize. Like Trevor was about to hold him up like ‘I talked to him first’, shaking his head he held out his hand instead, “Mickey.”

“Theo.” They shook hands and the other man introduced himself as Dante and collapsed in a chair close to Trevor.

“I swear to hell and back Theo - if you don’t fucking….” Dante said with a low growl, “If you don’t fucking learn which tools are which…”

Theo shook his head, “If you would just do what I told you to do - “

“If you would both just shut the hell up for like ten seconds - “ Finally the redhead spoke and held his hand out to Mickey, “Ian. Welcome.”

Mickey shook his hand and chuckled, “Where the hell were you all at anyway?”

“Pole dancing lessons.” Dante said with a straight face, “It’s stripping classes - they are part of the new curriculum for those of us looking for more entertaining modes of employment post lock up.” His eyes twinkled at Mickey and he winked at Trevor who flushed and swatted at his arm.

“Shut the hell up fucker.” He muttered glancing over at Mickey with a concerned look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let just anyone see this side of their group, and definitely not this side of his ‘friendship’ with Dante.

Mickey was silent and just watched the others interact with each other. He was not one to just jump in and take over. He would be more impulsive once he knew the lay of the land - but right now all he knew was that Ian was a tall fuck, Dante seemed to have something over Trevor and Theo was not overly handy at whatever job they were just out doing. Because as entertaining as stripper classes would be to watch, he highly doubted that was where they were. And if it was - he wondered if he could watch just for the laughs alone. 

It wasn’t until dinner that he really got a chance to talk to his new cellmate - and it would have to be the redhead. Who chose to sit next to him and give him the side eye, “So - it seems like you are gonna be living with me? Or are there other new people floating around?”

“It’s me...thata problem Red?” Mickey asked opening the water that came with their meal of - well he wasn’t sure what it was exactly but it vaguely resembled meatloaf in the shape. He would go with that for now.

“Not at all. Just curious why your shit is still on my bunk. Unless you are giving me your uniforms…?” Ian asked conversationally, his eyes twinkling at Mickey, “I am guess our resident nosey prick interrupted you? Or you really are that generous.”

“And the winner is the second option. I will get it moved.” Mickey said with a shake of his head, “I’ll move it after - “

He was cut off by a beep - the warning there was ten minutes left for dinner. He shoveled the food into his mouth and got up with his table to turn his his tray. He never got to really finish his promise to move his shit. Not that he was wanting to - maybe if he made the case of short guy gets bottom bunk - Red, Ian, whatever the hell his name was - would be open to switching. Because five years was a long damn time to be having to fucking vault his ass into bed.


	2. And the Sun Still Rises - and too damn early too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are adjustments to be made and people to meet. Already there seems to be a pretty clear choice for Mickey - to do what he has always done or see if there are other options.
> 
> Options are looking more and more interesting.

On the best of days, MIckey was not a morning person. His idea of morning was when the sun was well up in the sky - and generally there wasn’t a restaurant around serving breakfast. He therefore was not a little ray of sunshine at 5 am when the lights all came on. And his cellmate started to fucking WHISTLE. Groaning he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow and sighed.

“Tell me there is a fucking snooze button.”

Ian chuckled, “If there were this place would already be dark. Come on - if you don’t get up and moving the coffee will be lukewarm.” jerking his head towards the now open doorway and the sounds of food trays being rolled in, “Unless you like your oatmeal solid and your coffee barely warm. If that’s your schtick….”

Pushing himself up and hopping down, the dark haired man made a face, “Fucking cold floors.” he shot the chuckling other occupant of the room, “You couldn’t have upgraded for heated floors?” 

“Ah, I would have but the cost would have put the payments higher than I wanted.” Ian shot back with a straight face, “I will save you spot but not food.” He left the room stretching as he did and calling out, “TREVOR, save an extra spot. Newbie is slow as balls in the morning.”

“HEY!” Mickey flipped off the vanishing back of the redhead and got dressed, making a face at the uniform and making the bed quickly before heading downstairs. He got waved over by Trevor and noticed a tray waiting for him, “I see someone was nice to the new guy.”

Trevor grinned, “Once and only time. You don’t know how dangerous it is - I feared for my virtue.” The word wasn’t even out of his mouth and the table started to laugh, “I could still have some you know!”

“Please, if you have virtue then I am going to walk out of here a free man tonight.” Dante said with a roll of his eyes and a knowing smirk at the other man. Which made Theo roll his eyes and earned him a kick from Ian.

“Will you both stop - we have someone new. Why not harass him and not all the same people.” Ian said with a very innocent face aimed right at Mickey, whose mouth was full of oatmeal. Ian noticed how the eyes narrowed at him, which just made the smile at him brighter.

‘So this is how he’s going to play things.’ Mickey thought with a roll of his eyes as he swallowed, then aloud said, “Let’s not harass the new guy ‘cause he ain’t had coffee yet.” He eyed all the people at the table, “Really, coffee.” he took a sip and pulled a face, “Not that this is coffee.”

The reaction brought out chuckles and some knowing looks and there was a low and grumpy voice from behind him, “I heard your name is Milkovich. You know Terry?” The voice brought the camaraderie down around him and the new guy turned and eyed the old timer behind him. He looked familiar - but then all his dad’s friends started to look alike after awhile. Old, wrinkly and narrowed eyed with an feeling of aggression and temper around them. To stall for time there was another drink of his ‘coffee’.

“Yeah, ‘m Mickey. And who the fucking hell are you?”

“He asked me to keep an eye out - make sure you got in with our people.” the man eyed the group around the table and then they landed on Mickey again, “You sitting here?”

“Was plannin’ on it.”

“Y’sure?”

Mickey wasn’t sure what the correct response here would be. To toe the family line and go with this guy seemed the easy route. Because then his father would know he was there and doing things his father's way. The downside to that shit was that his father would know that his was there and doing things his father's way. And considering his father pretty much had lived in this place most of Mickey’s life - it was finally occurring to him that maybe doing things his father’s way all the time was not the best choice in life.

But not insulting this guy - or his father - would also be the best way to not get his ass kicked continuously. So, now came the dance.

“Maybe at lunch man - I am still working on my coffee.” Watching the old guy, Mickey just hoped that he had done and said enough to appease him but given more of a chance to find the lay of the land. Trust his dad to try and get him in line before he could figure this shit out on his own. Because Terry expected his spawn to toe the Milkovich family line. Because that was working out so fucking well. 

“Sounds good. I will see you at lunch then.” The tone implied he wouldn’t be put off again and he made his way back to a table of old timers and some younger guys that Mickey kind of remembered from the neighborhood - which meant they had been here awhile or they had family still back in the neighborhood.

Turning back to the table he was sitting at he looked at the expectant faces around him, “What?”

“Making friends already? Now isn’t that - enterprising of you.” Trevor said, shooting an annoyed look at the table of old timers, “Just watch your back - a few of them lost their...how should I put this nicely?”

“Some of their bitches were paroled.” Dante said, rolling his eyes at Trevor, “And you are about the same age as a few of them. Watch your back man. Just a word of advice.”  
A whistle cut off Mickey’s reply and he got ride of his tray with everyone else and then stood for the inspection and head count of their cell. Once that was done - the first day stretched out in front of him like an endless boring line. He looked over at his cellmate - maybe he should figure out who this guy was. Before he could speak though, the other man had turned to look at him curiously.

“So...you are a Milkovich. I met an Iggy on a work detail once. You know him?”

“He’s my brother.”

“He was a smart mouthed ass, that run in the family?”

A smirk came across Mickey’s face, “Yep.”

“Thank fuck, the last guy they stuck in here with me found Jesus and I was ready to help him meet his maker for trying to save me. At least on the outside you can close the door on those idiots. Here - if I close the door I could still hear him.” Ian said with a shake of his head, “Let me give you the grand tour now that we have time.” He waved Mickey back into their cell.

“The beds, the toilet, the sink, “Ian turned in a tight circle, “The living room, “He pointed to a stainless steel table and two seats that were both attached to the wall, “The patio.” He jerked a thumb to the small window, “And the closet.” he kicked at two bins under his bunk, “There is room here if you have shit to store.”

Shaking his head, “I think the patio might be the best…” scratching the side of his nose, Mickey watched as Ian completed the tour, “Anything else?”

“Commissary orders are today and we should have them filled by Friday. Showering is fun and I highly suggest it if we are going to be living together. And i have a lot of family pictures and art that go on the walls by my bed - leave it be and I won’t make you try and decipher what my five year old brother drew for me this week.” Ian said with a chuckle.

“He’s lying by the way - he will still try and make you decipher it.” Theo said from the doorway, “But it’s getting easier to tell the people from the aliens. So that helps.”

“Who's to say we aren’t all aliens Theo?” Ian asked his friend with an air of serenity about him.

“Anything else?”

Theo looked at Mickey, “If you want to be considered for a work detail - I would suggest laundry room or yard maintenance - it gets you out of here the longest and the less you know about the food here the better.”

Ian nodded, making a face, “He’s not wrong. Kitchen duty sounds like a decent gig. But then you get into knowing what the food really IS and people after you about serving sizes and sneaking shit and it’s a fucking nightmare.”

A call came from the main area, “GALLAGHER! GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR OR YOU WILL MISS WORK.”

“Ah, the pain in my ass reappears.” Ian said shaking his head, “Nice to see you Mickey - make yourself at home. Oh - and if a little bastard - other than Trevor - offers you a ‘welcome kit’ - decline and get the hell out of dodge.” He patted his cellmate on the shoulder and ran out of the room calling out, “Officer Martin - you are looking stunning today.”

Theo watched him go and shot Mickey a look, “Any questions?”

“That dude does know he’s in prison right?”

Theo chuckled, “Who? Gallagher? Yeah he’s fully aware. But you are seeing him on a good day.”

Shaking his head Mickey went about setting up what little he had at the moment, “So this ‘welcome kit’.”

Theo rolled his eyes and motioned Mickey out of the cell and to the railing, “See the little blonde haired dumbass over in the Neo-Nazi corner? That’s Steve. Steve was dumb and took the first dude that offered him protection. Now he tries to get out of things by luring new people into making his ‘Daddy’” He shot Mickey a look , “I shit you not - that is what he calls the guy, jealous and in solitary for acting on it. Steer the fuck away from that guy.”

:And so the moral of the story?”

“Don’t be a dumbfuck like Steve.”

“Noted.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, not that he was surprised by any standards. Mainly because he grew up in an area where you did what needed to be done to see the sunrise in the morning. And at times that meant doing stuff that would normally turn people's stomachs - like taking it up the ass from and old guy because he kept it to just his dick and not half the cell block. You did what you did to survive. Mickey understood that shit.

He also understood that by keeping his ass away from that shit it was far more likely. He looked around and then over at Theo curiously, “Anything else I need to know?”

There was a moment of silence and then Theo nodded his head towards the Latino’s, “Don’t cross them or let them lure you into betting on things. Their leader is still pissy about Ian beating him at poker and since you are now living with him…”

Poker huh? Now that was a game that Mickey could support playing in a place like this. Best way to compile a better stash of bribery supplies. Mickey ran his fingers through his hair and eyed the assembled people below him and shook his head, “And I had all the other groups pointed out to me - what the hell is the deal with you guys? I mean - I don’t see some gang shit gong on here…”

There was a long moment of silence and the Ukrainian looked over at Theo and saw him staring off in front of him, but it didn’t look like he was going to say anything and then he spoke, “Well, we are sort of a collection of misfits I guess. But it seems to work. There has only been one issue.” Grimacing he pushed back from the railing, “But enough of this shit - let’s go and get you paperwork so you can work huh.”

Work. It could be seen as a good thing. Working would help him earn Good Time which could shave off of his sentence. It could also put money on his commissary account that could more than likely use a boost because - while his sister might try - there wasn’t tons of cash to throw on his books. Especially now that he and his dad were both in here. His brothers meant well but…

He rubbed a hand over his face and followed Theo down to talk to day guard. He was a stocky looking guy with an air of cockiness about him that already set Mickey’s teeth on edge. He saw the warning look that Theo shot him and the grin he gave to the officer, “Hey there Offier Shawyer, How’s it going….”

“What do you want Jacobs?” Was the terse reply.

“I have a new friend here who would like a work duty form.”

“You have to be here two weeks before - “

“But if he gets his name in now then it will be smoother then yes?”

Mickey felt the eyes on him and his skin crawled a bit, “He talk?”

“Yeah I talk you - “ He grunted when Theo elbowed him, “I mean yes sir.”

“Dsamn right you do.” Shawyer said, the glare from the neon light bouncing off the bald spot on the back of his head, “Wait here.” He went back into the central walk way and Mickey shot a look at Theo that basically was like ‘Are you fucking kidding me here?’ and got a responsive look of ‘Shut the fuck up so you can get a job idiot.’

While he was waiting for Shawyer to return all of a sudden he felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice saying, “Well, who is this Theo?” In a voice Mickey was certain was supposed to be seductive and not creepy as hell. But for him at least - it was bordering on creepy as hell.

“Mickey.” He said and mentally cursed fluently as he turned his head and saw Steve standing there. What the hell did this little dipshit want?

“Oh I know just who you are - one of Daddy’s friends…” His voice trailed off at the look on Theo’s face for what he called his ‘protector’, “Have an issue? Wish you could be so well protected - I could put in a word for you?”

“And I could tell Gallagher that you were sniffing around his cell again.” Theo said with a careless shrug, “Both would be dumbfuck ideas - but mine would be more entertaining and likely to happen.”

Trying to not laugh at this exchange was harder than the dark haired man had anticipated. He felt a little like he was back home again and people were talking shit to talk shit. It took the edge off a bit. It wasn’t until Shawyer came back and handed him the paperwork that he stepped away and ignored the bickering. At least here he wouldn’t have to worry so much about past work history - and explain the gaps in it due to stints in Juvie. 

“Hey Theo - you got a pen?”

~~

Lunch was uneventful - he sat with the old timers, but could hear the laughter from the other table and part of him wished he was sitting over there. He responded to the questions almost like muscle memory from his last days on the outside. He knew the rules over here like the back of his hand.

They wanted him in the kitchen to help monitor some new minions. He said he would put it down as an option. Which was not a lie. He did put it down. Under about five other options. The idea of being where his dad wanted him - it was starting to chafe a bit, and if he didn’t get kitchen detail - he could always blame the system.

Damn the man and all that shit.

~~

After dinner on this first day is when things started to get interesting. The work crews were back. There were showers. And then there were night time activities. People were placing commissary orders and you got to see how things were split up as far as people were concerned. Groups tended to order as a unit, and he stopped by the table where his cellmate and his friends were sitting, “Well, looks like everyone survived the day.”

Ian looked up at him and rolled his eyes, “I had a shift in the library today. I spent my day reminding people that they couldn’t watch porn on the computers. However did I survive?”

“I don’t know - if Hector was in there I am sure it might have been a bit more of a close call.” Dante said with a smirk, “We missed you in laundry.” 

Mickey took a seat and listened to the banter going on around him and didn’t even look up till someone set a soda in front of him and it was Ian, he picked it up and looked at him quizzically, “I don’t have…”

“No one does the first couple of days. I am sure at some point you can make up the seventy five cents that soda cost me.” Ian said with a grin, “Or did I get it for free with my poker winnings? Will you ever know the truth….?”

Mickey flipped him off and grinned at bit when he got the same gesture in return.


	3. Undercurrents in Recycled Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think you have your routine down - something happens. A slight shift in how things are going that makes life just a bit more interesting, but also just that much more complicated. As tensions mount over respect and boundaries not being given - where does that leave the newest kid on the block?

Time passed and it did that thing where it seemed to be going fast and slow. And Mickey wouldn’t help but wonder when Father Time had turned into a little bitch like that. He had been in for a little over a month. He had gotten on the laundry detail - which amused his sister far too much when he had told her that on her first visit up here last week. If she thought for a minute that he was doing this shit when he got out - well, there would be more than enough time to get that idea out of her head later.

Right now, he was laying in bed and listening to the rain on the ‘patio’ window. It was almost time for lights out and he hadn’t seen his cellmate since dinner. Ian had been summoned for something by an officer and wasn’t showing any signs of being returned any time soon. Which while unusual - wasn’t out of the norm for this place enough to make Mickey think on it too hard. He had noticed that the Misfits had seemed a bit more on edge tonight but he figured it was because the idiot he was currently living with wasn’t there to act like this was a social function and not night time in prison.

He was about to start drifting off when the sound of raised voices out in the common area agot him to his feet and when they didn’t ease up it actually got him to leave his cell and lean over the railing like a few others. Down in the center area was Ian and he was getting in the face of Steve, who had the common sense to look less than comfortable in his current situation.

“...you fucking little son of a -” Ian looked like he was about to swing at the more slender man and Mickey’s brows shot up. Was this Ian on a bad day? This was a side to the guy he hadn’t seen. But then there was Dante, grabbing Ian’s shoulder and pulling him back and when Steve looked like he was going to stay put he shot him a look over his shoulder that had the other man scrambling back.

“Yeah, I would run too you fucking little….” Dante growled and then looked at Ian, “Dude it fucking sucks but this ain’t gonna help out for shit and you damn well fucking know it. Remember - you aren’t a dumbfuck like Steve.”

Ian pulled his arm away from other man and glared at him, even from where he stood Mickey could see that all was not sitting right with the redhead.

“That little shithead - “

“Will get what’s coming to him and you damn well know it. Go up and chill the fuck out before the CO’s stop just looking interested and actually get in here huh? And tomorrow we will sort this shit out.” Dante said calmly, but even though his voice carried it was the body language that spoke volumes - tonight he was the calm and in control one and Ian was the one that was on edge.

A week ago the rolls had been reversed. But that had been a whole other situation. You didn’t fuck with someone’s fucking prison bitch - and someone had fucked with Trevor. And Dante was pissed as all fucking hell. It had taken Theo and Ian both to talk him back down from whatever the hell he had been going to do. And now it seemed Dante was hell bent on returning the favor. Mickey eyed where Ian and Dante were now having a heated, but low volume discussion. It seemed to involve a lot of talking with him hands on Ian’s part. And then over to where Steve was sitting with his ‘Daddy’s’ group. HIs protector was doing 30 days in the hole for fucking with Trevor.

Because even in prison you had the right to say no - and not getting your dick sucked didn’t mean you bitched and got the person who said no to you fucked up. Mickey wished he had a smoke right now, but he was out. Commissary wouldn’t be delivered till tomorrow and he sure as fuck all wasn’t taking a shift of cleaning the common area for four smokes. He watched the drama cool down as the lights blinked reminding them that lights out was getting closer. It also seemed to serve as a way to further diffuse the situation below.

The parties went their separate ways but there was a tenseness in the air - an electricity - that hadn’t been around since his arrival. Mickey wasn’t sure how he felt about it other than he wasn’t thrilled that he was going to be sharing a tight space with one of the combatants. He followed Ian into their cell where the other man was angrily brushing his teeth. He eyed him for a moment and then thought ‘fuck it’, his self preservation skills must have been on vacation.

“Your toothbrush do something to piss you off there Gallagher?”

THere was a chuckle at the one finger response, “Nah, I ain’t no bitch. But what the fucking hell?” the dark haired man jerked a thumb towards the common area as the door all swung closed with a loud metallic clang. It took all his self control to not flinch. He still wasn’t used to that sound. He didn’t like the idea of being used to it. Of this being his new normal. He watched Ian as all these thoughts went through his head, “Gallagher?”

“You can really be a nosy fuck you know that Milkovich?” Ian said, turning to face his cellmate with a raised brow, “You worried about my ass?” The green eyes were still stormy and part unreadable, but at least now there seemed to be a hint of amusement around his lips, “Should I be touched?”

“Yeah, this is a real fucking Hallmark moment here jackass.” Mickey shot back with a roll of his eyes, “I just don’t want to get stuck doing your shit at work because you decide to be a dumbfuck and end up on restriction like a stupid motherfucker.”

Ian laughed, but it wasn’t the normal laugh that had humor with a touch of exasperation in it, this was a rough laugh, “Well, I almost was a stupid motherfucker - you can thank Dante tomorrow from saving you from extra loads of socks.” He ran his hands over h face and sighed, “But Steve got in my face earlier about Trevor and then got me pulled for a random fucking piss test because he thought I was glassy eyed at work.” He grumbled under his breath, “Fucking stupid little fucker.”  
Leaning back against their bunks, icy blue eyes watched as Gallagher finished getting ready for bed and then raised a brow, “You ever gonna tell me just why Steve has such a fucking hard on to get your ass busted. Or anyone’s in your little group?”

“You mean ‘our’ little group - unless you are abandoning our collective asses for the ‘Old and Bitter Society’ you have lunch with?” Isan said stripping down to his boxers and a t-shirt before getting into bed, leaving Mickey to pole vault up into the upper bunk. The dark haired man still wanted to kick his ass over making him stay in the top bunk. But he also wasn’t stupid and figured that he could have it worse in this rotten fucking place.

“Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow, “Was the reply. It was the same reply he had been getting for weeks and Mickey let his hand go over the side and flip Ian off - which earned him a chuckle and, “Not tonight - I have a headache.”

Rolling over Mickey gave him both middle fingers and he drifted off to Ian chuckling on the bunk under him.

~~

If the CO’s for Cell Block C had thought that a good nights sleep would alleviate the tensions in the block, they were seriously mistaken. All that happened was a lot of glowering looks and comments that on the surface were simple and easily responded to - but if you looked below the facade they were threats and biting commentary meant to feed the anger the other groups were starting to feel. 

What had happened to Trevor - getting roughed up in a hallway with too many shadows and not enough guards - went against a few of the unspoken rules of the Cell Block from what Mickey could tell. It wasn’t unusual in most facilities for bitch’s to be ‘protected’ but still a bit of fair game - especially if you were trying to send a message to their Protector. However, Dante didn’t seem to have a beef with the Aryans. From what Mickey could see - it was based on the interracial basis of Trevor and Dante’s situation. Which was going to rile any group up. Especially if you looked at the makeup of their Block and the Aryans were outnumbered but not just other races but people who just thought they were fucking morons.

The tensions went on for a few days and the Newbie (Mickey couldn’t wait for someone else to get their ass into this Block so he could lose that fucking name.) couldn’t help but notice that people that were normally in a decent mindset (like his fucking chipper as fuck in the morning cellmate) were more moody and brooding today. Not that he was exactly complaining about the lack of whistling and overall chipperness before he had had - he wasn’t going to call it coffee because that sure as hell wasn’t what it was - but his coffee substitute. However, the lack of wanting to throttle the other man and a few of the other morning people left him with little else to do but watch the people around him and he was not reassured by what he was seeing.

Groups were keeping to themselves a bit more. Looks were being traded that he was not overly comfortable with. And when he was waved over by his father’s friends, he actually paused before he went over to see what they wanted.

“So that little redhead bastard you live with - he’s stepping on toes. You might want to think about distancing yourself.” One of them - a geezer named Ivan said with a glare in Ian’s direction, “He’s making enemies - you don’t mess with an Aryan’s bitch boy.”

Mickey shrugged, “They messed with one of his friends first I thought i heard. Sounds more like an eye for an eye bullshit than toe steppin’.”

There were shared looked and Hank, seated to the left of Ivan shook his head, “Listen to me little Milkovich, you don’t mess with them because they have the widest reach in the prison - and your little friend over there is making enemies.”

“I’ll be sure t’let him know that.” Mickey said, taking another sip of his coffee and resolving with every sip to order that instant shit once his sister got money on his books. Because even though that was crappy as fuck - it was better than this shit. He looked around at the table and took stock of who was there. Men with their age written on their faces in the deep lines and hollowed cheeks, in the dark circles under their eyes and the chapped lips that they still licked out of habit if nothing else. Tar stained fingers from years of smoking and other pursuits. And they were all stuck here - in this metal hell hole because they made choices - choices they were now wanting him to make.

He wasn’t the smartest cookie in the world - but even Mickey on his worst day knew that this place was no where he wanted to be. And having power here was pointless because no one here had power. Unless you had a badge. And these old timers were living in a fantasy world if they thought for a moment they had anything other than a sliver of any sort of power here. Especially with him.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Was all he would give them, saluting them with his coffee cup, he headed for the table he had just left and leaned back in the chair as far as they would let him. He had tried on his third day to lean back in the chair - balancing it on the back two back legs. Theo had taken that as an invitation to see just how well he could balance that way.

The answer was better than some but not perfect - and the resulting crash to the ground had brought guards in. With guards came the ‘don’t damage state property’ and the ‘you could hurt yourself’ lectures. Mickey rolled his eyes just thinking about the time he had lost having to listen to them drone on about life choices and property damage.

He would never get that 45 minutes back.

~~

That night there was really weird vibe in the common area. Tables were pushed together after dinner and while there was still an over abundance of tension - it was not tension that had an outlet. Poker. Now, in theory, gambling was not permitted in the facility. But these bi-weekly events helped with Cell Block cohesion and camaraderie. 

Or as Dante put it, “It keeps us from wanting to kill each other all the damn time.”

Mickey hadn’t been to a poker night yet - and he didn’t have enough commissary items to buy in this round. But he was working on it for the next.one. The guards were on the inside of the common area tonight and the sign ups were done via a guard and included proof of ‘funds’ - you had to show that you had enough commissary to play. 

Theo plopped himself on the steps next to Mickey, as the other man watched the sign ups and set up go on, “So you gonna hang out tonight. It’s a good time.”

“Fuck yes - I plan to play next time. But I do want to lodge a complaint with management.” Mickey held up the bottle of water that had a lemonade flavoring packet mixed in, “The vodka and lemonade here is weak as shit.”

The laugh that got him, made Mickey grin at him, “Yeah well - we will see what we can do about that for next time.” Theo leaned back, bracing his elbows on the step behind him, watching the people mingle and watching the interactions among their companions. He looked completely at ease, but sitting this close to him Mickey could feel the alertness in his - whatever the hell he and Theo were. Friends seemed a bit strong but acquaintance didn’t seem to fit either. He was lost in thought on the topic when he realised that Theo was talking to him again.

“Don’t stand next to a player too closely, that signals that you are a bit more - personally invested - in that player. Again -”

Before he could finish Mickey said, “Don’t be a dumbfuck like Steve.”

“Pretty much sums that up.”

Having only been to a few poker nights on the outside - Mickey wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the evening. He enjoyed getting to mingle in a less structured setting. Or at least as less structured as you could get in prison. Things seemed to be going pretty well - and it seemed like his cellmate, a Latino gang-banger, and Ivan from the old -timers were the ones to beat if you could. Walking by the table he noticed that Ian was working on a hand that had a lot of instant coffee packets in the mix. He wondered how much common room chore rotations he would have to trade to get some of those.

He was making his way over to see Theo and ask him about work detail tomorrow when a metallic crashing sound made everything stop. He whipped around and there was Dante with an Aryan pinned to support beam, his face showing just how furious he was.

“Say it again…” 

Mickey hung back for a second before he was on his way over to the two men. But before he could get there - the alarm went off and everyone had to hit the ground and lay there face first. Looking up through his black lashes he could see Dante and the Aryan getting pulled apart and both of them getting cuffed as they were pulled into opposite hallways to cool off. There was a high charged moments that followed as everyone seemed to be holding their breaths.

After what felt like forever - but was only about five minutes - the all clear was blown. Getting up slowly from the ground Mickey sighed as people started to pick things up and it seemed like the night was over. Running his fingers through his hair, he went over to help separate tables. And he overheard some conversations that made him want to hit someone.

“Seems like he’s still touchy ‘bout his toy being dented.”

Micked wanted to growl, “He has a name fucker.”

“One down - a few more to go….”

Again Mickey bit his tongue - literally - to keep from saying, “You think so huh?”

It was lights out though before he said anything. And in the stillness of his cell he looked up at the ceiling and growled, “I am gonna…”

“Do nothing. Don’t play into their hands. Dante will be badk in a week or so and we will wait and see what he wants to do. Just chill out “

“I don’t think so!”

“I do, don’t rush Mickey from the Southside. It’ll all work out in the end.

Ultimately he lay there for hours staring at the ceiling and going through scenarios as he did. Currently his personal favorite was ‘accidently’ knocking them down a laundry shoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone that is enjoying this story - I am having a lot of fun writing it! 
> 
>  
> 
> Mickey!Muse: I would like to point out that I haven't gotten laid or anything yet.  
> Me: Nope.  
> Mickey!Muse: I would like to point out that Ian is right there in a cell with me.  
> Me: He sure is.  
> Mickey!Muse: I get that you are trying to prove a point that there is more to use than sexy fun times - but...  
> Me: You aren't getting laid yet for several chapters. *hands him a bottle of lotion*  
> Mickey!Muse: I am going back over to your other story where I actually get some.  
> Me: Well, Ian is in boot camp over there so you aren't getting any there either.  
> Mickey!Muse: ... Yes there is more to us than sex, but we still like SEX.  
> Me: That's good to know. I will take that into consideration for future chapters.  
> Mickey!Muse: *glowers and stomps off to get a beer*


	4. Who the hell cheats at solitaire?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lockdown leading to cellmates getting a chance to bond, get to know one another - and play cards. There is also a chance for Mickey to learn some more about the guy that he is currently sharing a very small space with. Other than the fact that he cheats at solitaire - honestly - who the hell does that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ti's been awhile since I posted anything - long story short - my father had a medical scare that left me going between home, work and the ICU. However all things seem to have normalized and I can go back to harassing the lovely inmates of Cell Block C. I have missed them - and my father and I might have also streamed a lot of Netflix while he was in the hospital - thank you Lock Up: Extended Stay for being on there. I now have more inspiration for things to throw at the characters.
> 
> They are super excited. I am sure you can all tell!

Being on lockdown was the biggest pain in the ass. Ever. Mickey flopped back on his bunk with a sigh and tried to ignore his cellmate as best he could. Really, he could have had it worse off. He acknowledged that. But they had been on lockdown for the better part of a week - and he was about to throttle the redhead and have no regrets at all about it. After being here for six months - there had been a routine to his days. One he had relished. A bit too much it seemed now that it was taken away. Because someone had to be an fucking idiot - their block was on lockdown as a repercussion.

If you are going to stash shivs around for protection - don’t be an idiot about it. And that had come after a few rainy days when their rec time had been restricted and there were some fights. So to ‘cool them down’ someone thought it would be a dandy idea to keep them all in their cells. Constantly. They were let out for showers - which his and Ian’s turn would be in a little bit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come down and do something other than sigh? I feel like I am sharing a cell with a huffy teenager.” Ian said conversationally, breaking into Mickey’s mental rant.

Sitting up on his bunk, the ice blue eyes narrowed at the taller man lounging as he played yet another game of solitaire, looking for all the world like he was killing time and was not stressed or on edge in the slightest, “Listen here - I am not playing cards with you. I have seen how you operate Tough Guy. I just rebuilt my commissary stash. I am not losing it to you.”

An overly innocent face that got turned on him made Mickey snort and roll his eyes, but he had to work to maintain his annoyed face when the innocence melted into a grin, “Would I do that to you Mickey? Me?!”

Shaking his head, Mickey hopped down from the bunk and rolled his eyes as he took the seat across from Ian, “In a heartbeat. That look don’t fool me Gallagher.” And it didn’t. It might amuse him. It might even confuse him at times - but it never fooled him, “It’s not my fault that you forgot to put swiss rolls on your order form. But that doesn't mean I am gonna gamble my shit away to you.”

Ian looked properly stunned at the implication, even though his eyes were twinkling at MIckey, “Are you saying that I am trying to lure you into a situation where I can win all of your baked goods? Really! I am outraged.”

“Really? Cause I had you pegged more as a pain in the ass.” As the words left his mouth Mickey knew what was coming and held up his hand, “No commentary either.”

All that got him was a shit eating grin and a middle finger, “I was not going to say a word. I am simply sitting here being maligned and then teased with ass pain with no follow through. I see how you are Milkovich.”

That was something else he didn’t get about the redhead. He was completely at ease about his lack of outrage over gay sex in prison. He had heard about a guy named Ken that had been here for awhile that Ian had taken in a bit. There had been some sort of a ‘thing’ that had ended badly - and thus Ian no longer took in the lost foundlings of the prison. He would be your friend - but don’t cross that line. Mickey had yet to find out just what had happened but it had all gone down about eight months before he had gotten there so there was really nothing new to find out.

“Really Red?”

All that got him was a grin and a wink that made Mickey grin in spite of himself, “I am not playing cards with your ass though.”

“Well, that’s good, because my ass cheats more than my hands do.” Ian said, taking a sip of ‘coffee’ out of his styrofoam cup, “Shouldn’t you be studying anyway?”

“Fuck off.” The words had no heat, but that was mainly due to the fact he probably should be studying. It had been pointed out to him that people who got their GED or took job skills classes were looked on more favorably when it came to early release dates. So that led him to signing up for the classes. And Ian (who managed to graduate high school even from the Southside) had someone talked him into classes.

And with classes came homework. And with homework came a bunch of hovering jackasses that made sure it was getting done., “What are the chances that you are going to let me just it here and think about how much I fucking hate lockdown.”

“About the same of Trevor waking up tomorrow and no longer being gay.” Ian didn’t look up from the cards and sighed, “Would you think less of me if I cheated at solitaire?”

“What makes you think that I think of you all that highly now?” The Ukrainian didn’t have to turn around to know he was being flipped off again. He turned and rolled his eyes at the younger man, “You know cheating at solitaire is a dick move. Who the hell does that anyway?”

“Me. I don’t like losing at cards.”

“You are literally playing against yourself.” Rejoining him at the table with his English and history work, Mickey leveled a look at him, “Dude, seriously? Just admit it - the cards are winning and get the fuck over it.”

“But - “

“You do you dude, but it’s just solitaire. Maybe worry more if it’s got shit riding on it?”

The agitated shuffling of the cards had Mickey reading deeper into the the breakdown of the American Federal Government to hide the grin that was on his face and he missed the exasperatedly amused look on Ian’s when he looked over at him.

~~

He was not in the mood today to be let out for recreation with the group he was in. There were too many hot heads in this bunch. Mickey took his turn on the pull up bar and enjoyed the feeling of working on his muscles. The pull and the soft burning feeling. In his upper arms. He was in the middle of reciting the fucking dates of the the Civil War when a name caught his ear and make it perk up.

“...Gallagher…?”

Mickey wouldn’t call his cellmate his best friend, but he had been a good guy. He had helped when he needed it and took him a bit under his wing a bit more than Mickey would ever voluntarily admit to. However, he was still new and the guys talking had been around for awhile and this could be interesting to say the least.

“Heard that he was taking a new side - “

“Call it what it is - he’s taking a new bitch from what it looks like. Didn’t think he would after last time.” there were some laughs and then one of them started to hack and cough.

Great is was Cyrus Holland. Ol’ Cy was a fixture from what Mickey could tell and for all intents and purposes wasn’t the worst guy there. He kept to himself - or he appeared to - and he didn’t try and make enemies. He was just there. So for him to speaking up about things - it made it a bit more credible.

“Well, you know - taking the fall for someone then having them shiv you in the fucking back will make a person more wary.” Cyrus said with a chuckle, “But sure - it’s ‘bout time doncha think?”

Gallagher was going to be getting a fucking - ? Why did he care. He didn’t - but if he thought he was going to move out just so Ian could get laid, the red headed bastard had another think coming. Mickey wasn’t going to move so Ian could get some. Fuck that shit. He was about to speak up when another voice entered the fray and it made Mickey see red.

“So that little redheaded prick - “

Cyrus cut him off and leveled a look at him, “Careful Evan. You don’t want to cross a line here.”

Evan Brownson. Now this was a guy that Mickey avoided at all costs. He was like Terry - if he’s father were they would have gotten along like gang busters. Which made it seem all the more reason to stay the hell away. Mickey moved on to the free weights but kept his ears alert for any other tidbits of information. In prison - like in the streets - information was the best commodity to have in your arsenal. He wasn’t sure why Evan seemed to need to be in Gallagher’s business all the time anyway - it’s not like the two crossed paths all that often. From what Mickey could see Ian had a brain and Evan was a lot like his dad. Lots of anger and no fucking clue why.

Then there was his voice again, “I am just saying he should fucking - “

Only to be cut off by Cyrus, who was sounding more and more exasperated with the younger man, “You need to get over it. So Gallagher handed you your ass. You crossed a line and got the payback. Stay out of his shit Evan. You don’t want a repeat of last time now do you? The higher ups won’t be thrilled to hear you can’t learn a lesson with one beat down and that you need more than one.”

There was laughter and the group moved on, but not before Mickey saw Evan scowl at the back of some of the older men and then shoot a really angry look over his shoulder towards the prison and where a certain red headed loudmouth was currently in a cell and more than likely cheating at solitaire. Because he was an idiot. Mickey sighed and wondered whether or not to bring this up with Ian later. The other could be very closed mouthed when it came to his past in the prison and was pretty good at topic changes.

But if his cellmate - who hadn’t done a whole hell of a lot to piss him off - was going for a beat down with a moron like Evan. Mickey figured he owed him at least a heads up. Maybe in exchange for not whistling as he got ready in the morning because really - no one should be that awake at the time that they woke them up.

~~

“So I hear you had issues with Evan.”

A pair of green eyes looked up at him from a tray of - Mickey was going to go out on a limb and say it was supposed to be salisbury steak - and narrowed slightly. Ian swallowed and shrugged, “I did at one point. But We had a discussion and it’s no longer a thing.”

“Not what I heard.”

The sigh from across the table was loud and exasperated. Well, it was at least incredibly loud. But holding his ground, the dark haired man stared across their small table and then around their cell, “What? We are on lockdown - you got no one else to talk to. I need to know so I can figure out if I am going to have your back or let him get his licks in.”

“You know that no one says ‘licks’ anymore.”

“You know I am sitting here waiting - all patient like - and you aren’t talking.”

Leaning back against their cell wall, green eyes narrowed as they looked at Mickey as if he was trying to make a judgement call on whether or not to open his mouth. The narrowed eyes were met with icy blue ones that didn’t look away once. Then there was another sigh and a shrug, “Evan crossed a line - there was a guy that was under my - “

“He was your bitch.”

“We had an arrange-”

“He. Was. Your. Bitch. Say it with me Gallagher.” All he got in response was a middle finger and that made him roll his eyes, “Quit hitting on me and tell me the story. So once upon a time you had a prison bitch…”

“I had an arrangement. And things were fine. Until Evan decided he had an issue with my arrangement and instead of taking said issue up with me - which is what should be done - he decided to take things up with my…”

“Wife?”

“Friend.” Ian said with a shake of his head, “I had an issue with his methods - and he got a trip to the hospital and I got three months in Ad-Seg, my friend - “ he paused and looked at Mickey waiting for an interjection. All he got was a smirk, so rolling his eyes Ian continued, “Was transferred to another facility. Where I then received a Dear Ian letter from before his parole.” Picking his form back up he stabbed it into the mashed potatoes and waited for the commentary.

Thankfully he wasn’t waiting long.

“So you and your prison wife had an arrangement that Evan took exception too, he did something, you kicked his ass and he still is annoyed about it.” Mickey summarized and shook his head, “I cannot picture you in Ad-Seg. You talk too damn much.”

“I sang. Alot.”

“Gallagher if you start singing I am going to kick your ass out.”

“Of OUR HOME!?”

“Yes. I have heard enough from the others. Singing is outlawed here.”

“You are wounding me here Milkovich.”

“Bite me Gallagher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had someone ask me if I know how long this story is going to be. The answer is no. I really don't. I have an idea of where I want it to go - but the muses want what the muses want - so I am trying to be flexible.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: You know what is flexible? Me when I am -
> 
> Me: You still aren't getting laid Milkovich - but hey Mandy is going to be showing up soon.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: So you think that you can make up for me NOT getting laid by Gallagher by giving me visitation with my sister? 
> 
> Me: You are welcome - also - Ian might be shirtless for while soon.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: I hate you. *grumbles*
> 
> Me: What was that Mumbles.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: I see what you did there - fuck off.
> 
> Yeah - he loves me SOOOOOO much.


	5. A Bizarre Game of Telephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisters are the best when it comes to getting money on your books, coming to visit, and sending decent porn. But now Mickey has to deal with Ian and Mandy having some sort of weird plan to drive him crazy and bond through him. Because he doesn't have enough going on without these two idiots.
> 
> And Mandy gets asked out for drinks by someone unexpected that was there to visit the gentle, red headed puppy that is sharing her brother's cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best ever with your penitence with me! Still dealing with family craziness but I am trying to stay somewhat consistent with my posting I promise!

When your cellmate is a mouthy jackass who had zero respect for personal boundaries - things were bound to come up. Like that while Mickey was a Milkovich - and yes there were several of them currently in this facility - the only one outside that really came to visit regularly was his sister Mandy. Occasionally Iggy - the idiot brother of all time, now that he was out of here again - but mainly Mandy. And it stood to reason, because Mickey had pissed off a god at some point - that Ian and Mandy would unite to create some unholy union to drive him around the damn bend. Because being in prison wasn’t enough obviously.

“Is she coming today?”

A dark brow arched and icy blue eyes stared at the grinning idiot across the table from him, “You know - your attachment to my sister is annoying as fuck right?”

“So she is coming.”

“I hate you.”

He flipped off the rest of the table for the chuckles and more than few cackles that he got for that. Really - he wasn’t sure when he had been adopted into this little group of crazies. Dante had been out of Ad-Seg and with Trevor back and keeping an eye on him seemed to be adjusting back to General Population with the skill and grace of a dancer. Theo was lounging - taking up two chairs and eyeing the commissary order form in front of him and occasionally asking the group at large if he really wanted more honey buns this order period. Because they cared. And Ian - well - Ian was playing with his breakfast by making a tent out of his toast.

Because of course he was.

“Eat.”

“See? My cellmate worries about me. What can you all say about that?”

“Eat so you don’t try and sneak snacks later and I won’t have to stand guard over my chip stash.”

“If you would just SHARE - sharing is caring.”

“Stealing my chips is going to get your ass kicked.”

Dante looked up and grinned at the two of them, “Are you sure that you two aren’t - “ His voice trailed off and his eyebrows waggled suggestively at the pair.

Trevor laughed and kicked Dante under the table, “Are you sure they aren’t a middle aged married couple? That I don’t know….but anything else?” He rolled his eyes and then shot Mickey an apologetic look, “Forgive Dante - his filter has been damaged since his last round in Ad-Seg.”

“Please. I pulled a Gallagher - I think they threw a party when I left.” Dante said with a grin, “But really who doesn’t love Prison Themed Karaoke?”

The unholy grin that game over Red, shouldn’t have made Mickey more nervous than curious. And yet - curiosity won the day, “Do I even want to know?”

“Songs with ‘incarceration’ as a general theme. If you are going to sing people crazy - I find it best to have a theme.” Ian said, giving Mickey an innocent look, “I mean - just think of the possibilities.”

Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head, “I am never going into the -” He stopped and looked at the idiots around him - and shook his head at their smirking and expectant faces, “Oh for fucks sake…”

The laughter around him earned them all an extra salute with his middle finger and earned Ian a kick to the shins.

“Domestic abuse. I am a battered cellmate.”

“Not yet, but if you don’t shut the hell up and let me finish my coffee - we could make that a reality.”

~~

Visitation was something that was looked forward to in the prison. They were just coming off of a lock down so it had been a while and most of the group of fools he associated with were expecting someone to come and see their worthless asses. For most people that was great. But as Mickey got summoned - so did Gallagher. Which meant that he and Mandy were going to see each other. And the shorter man couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the giant puppy he roomed with got in line behind him.

“You do know she is here to see me right moron?” he asked conversationally as they were all cuffed for their walk to the visitation area. A glance over his shoulder made him roll his eyes and whisper, “I am surrounded by idiots.” Because the ginger puppy behind him was smirking and waiting patiently.

“She is really is just coming here to see me. You are a bonus.” Ian said with confidence, only to be shushed by a guard and there were a round of snorts as he gave a beatific smile and an overly innocent face.

Completely unimpressed the guard rolled his eyes, “Not buying it Gallagher - now let's go see your people shall we?” And he started moving the inmates in a single file line and almost as if he could hear the intake of breath that as so subtle even the men around him hadn’t really heard it, “And Gallagher if you start to fucking sing I am going to kick your ass back to your cell and you won’t be able to flirt with Milkovich’s sister if she shows up.”

“Hey now Officer Johnson - would you get in the way of true love?”

“If it means I don’t have to hear your tone deaf ass singing ‘Telephone’ then yes, yes I would.”

Ian glared, well he tried to glare, at Officer Johnson. But the man was in his late 40’s and really wasn’t the worst corrections officer that they had to deal with on a daily basis, “And Mandy prefers ‘Bad Romance’.”

Mickey sighed, “Can we send him back for knowing the NAMES of those songs?”

Johnson just chuckled, “And silence gentlemen, we will be calling you in in groups of ten for a twenty minute conversation. Why twenty minutes? Because you lucky ones didn’t do anything dumb during lockdown - so enjoy your extra bit of time. All calls are monitored - all visitors have been screened. You will all play nice and keep civil tongues in your head. And as J Block learned this morning - please do not have any of your guests demonstrate - “ He sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Keep all behavior PG. If you can’t do it and not get arrested in front of a kindergartner - you don’t do that here.”

~~

Mandy Milkovich was not in a great mood. Out of all her family that ended up in this shithole - and that was the vast majority of them - she had never thought that Mickey would end up here. He was the ‘smart’ brother. A small grin tugged at her lips, not that there was exactly a lot of competition for that title. But he sure as fuck wasn’t Tony and Jaime - all blind faith and following her father into the pits of hell. And yet here she sat - again - waiting for them to bring her brother out of the cell block so she could see him through a thick pane of glass and talk to him through a tinny as fuck phone.

A glance over to the side, and the small grin she had on her lips grew just a bit. She recognized the icy blonde with the grey eyes sitting next to her. Hair up in a messy bun and looking every inch as annoyed as Mandy was feeling, “Coming to visit the red head again Dolohov?”

There was a chuckle and she got a conspiratorial wink out of the other woman, “Well, I can’t just let him sit and stew now can I? His family can’t make it today and it’s not fair that you would get all the flirting and horrendous pick up lines.” Her accent was something Mandy had been trying to place since meeting her here several visits ago. It wasn’t strictly Southside. It wasn’t strictly Eastern European. It was...something unique and if you asked her - all you got was flipped off and a response of ‘I sound like me - what the fuck is it to you?’

THe loud beep sounded and in marched the first round of prisoners and Mandy grinned as Ian walked by, saw her and brought up his shackled hands to make a heart for her. Playing along, she fanned herself and blew him a kiss. Grinning as he took his spot at the next partition down. She was still grinning when she looked across at her brother who rolled his eyes as he reached for the phone.

“For the love of fucking hell would you stop egging the bastard on?” Mickey said as he gave his sister what he was hoping was an annoyed and exasperated look. 

“But he’s my BOYFRIEND.” Mandy said, with a wildly over the top innocent fact, complete with eyes that were wide and innocent. If it weren’t for the wicked gleam in them. All her effort got her was being flipped off, “Now Mickey, I know we are Southside - but we aren’t Southside of the Appalachians here...surely you can get that seen to in here.”

“Fuck off.”

“All this and after I put money on your books too.”

She grinned at the look of surprise that came over his face, “You did what?”

“Well, you said that you guys used shit for cards right? I figured if you were actually playing nice with the other idiots - I might as well help out. Positive reinforcement or some shit.” Leaning forward, she took a moment to really look at her brother, “You really doin’ okay though Mick?”

The one shoulder shrug she got in response made her start to drum her fingers on the metal counter she was leaning on till he looked at her and he sighed, “It could be fucking worse. I could be in Dad’s block. But I am doin’ what I said I would. I am keepin’ my head down and not startin’ shit. Okay? Are you happy?”

Her disbelieving look made him roll his eyes, then without breaking eye contact with him leaned over and tapped the woman talking to Ian on the shoulder, “Hey Dolohov - can you verify for me if my brother has had some type of serious head injury that he’s actually behaving himself?”

The woman leaned back and peered around at Mickey and grinned at him, blowing him a kiss. He rolled his eyes and smirked back at her. Through his sister’s handset he could hear the question being asked and on his side of the wall he could hear Ian cracking up.

“I swear to fucking god Gallagher…..”

He said something back to her while flipping Mickey off around the divider, and after the most bizarre round of telephone that Mickey had ever witnessed - half of it being in Russian on the part of Ian and his visitor - the older inmate had his sister’s undivided attention again, “Satisfied bitch?”

“Listen fuckface, I know how hard and shitty this is. But I don’t want you in here longer than necessary because someone stole your fucking jello.”

Flipping her off seemed to be the easiest way to convey his feelings, “I warned the asshole.”

“Mickey, it was jello - I promise jello is not the nectar of the fucking gods okay? No stabbing people with plastic cutlery over something Bill fucking Cosby used to peddle.”

Wanting to do anything to get off the topic of his youthful transgressions, Mickey looked at Mandy and narrowed his eyes, “Iggy and the boys?”

“They are fine. Iggy is actually working at a job. Where they cut him an actual check.” Mandy said with a grin, “And hasn’t been fired. It’s been like three fucking weeks if you can believe that shit.”

“Meat packing plant?”

“Construction. He’s even been fixing shit at the house - and so far nothing has fallen apart so I think he might actually have found something - other than pissing me off -that he’s good at.” his sister said with a chuckle, “Tony and Jaime are both off doing who the hell knows what. But I think Jamie is actually gonna that slut three blocks over.”

“Actually marry or just move in and see if she notices and kicks him out?” Mickey asked, a shit eating grin on his face, “Didn’t that work with that one stripper for like three months?”

“Yeah - but….” Mandy shrugged and winked at him, “While this one’s a slut - she is smarter than the stripper. I think she will notice if he literally just never goes home.”

And so for the next fifteen minutes it was just an easy back and forth and if it wasn’t for the weight of the shackles on his wrists - he would have thought they were at the table back at the house catching up after a run or some shit. When the warning buzzer sounded, he looked at Mandy and for a moment there was a sadness in her eyes that ate at him a little bit. He hadn’t ever been away this long. He had always been there keeping her ass safe and just THERE.

And now he was here and she was keeping track of Iggy and the others. If nothing else, at least their dad was in here and would be for the foreseeable future. So that wasn’t something he had stuck her with on top of everything else.

“Tell Ian I love him SO much.” She said, in a lighthearted tone and then Mandy leveled a look at him, “And you be careful alright? And smart. This drive is a pain in the ass and I don’t want to make it more than I have to.”

Mickey saluted her and nodded, “And hey bitch? Same to you hmm?”

“Do you see me back there? You are preaching to the choir jackass. Who here has the fucking record again?”

As the phone went dead the siblings flipped each other off - both wearing grins and chuckling. Because if you had to choose between laughing and raging at fate and poor life choices - in this place - laughter was the best choice hands down.

~~

Watching as Red got his shackles removed and then walked over to join their little - whatever the fuck they were - Mickey gave him a look, “The fuck were you talking in earlier?”

“With Lexy? Russian. It saves time coming up with codes or euphemisms.” Ian said with a shrug, stretching so that his back popped, “Not that we need code or some shit - just something we do.”

“It was weird as hell - I don’t think you did that shit before.”

There was that shrug again, “Meh, at times it just happens.” He grinned at Mickey, “Was Mandy impressed?”

“Fuck you is what Mandy was,”

“Do you promise?”

“To kick your ass? Daily asswipe.”

~~

Mandy made her way out of the building of cement and mental, she saw Ian’s friend, Dolohov, leaning against a black crossover SUV, her hair still up in a messy bun, but dark sunglasses in place and a cigarette up to her lips. Grinning she made her way over to the other woman as she lowered her own sunglasses into place, “Hey….can I use your lighter?”

The red lips smirked as a zippo was produced and Mandy lit her own cigarette, “I guess I should properly introduce myself since my idiot seems to be aggravating yours.” A slender hand appeared and Mandy found herself in a surprisingly firm handshake, “Aleksandra Dolohov, but please call me Lexy. Call me by my first name and I look around for my great-grandmother.”

“Amanda Milkovich, but call me Mandy or I will think I am in trouble.” Mandy said, not sure why she had used her sassy tone with this woman. She grinned as Lexy chuckled and they stood for a moment in silence - comfortable just smoking, then something occurred to Mandy and she as curious, “So are you and Ian….?”

“Gods no.” Lexy said, and her laugh was low and husky, “He’s my person you know? And I - work from home - so it’s a bit easier for me to come and visit than his siblings. So I haul my ass up here and keep him company for awhile. Are you interested in - “

“Um, I think he’s pretty great?”

“He’s the best, but um….”

“Um?”

Lexy pushed her sunglasses up on her head and looked at Mandy, biting her lip, and wondering how much she could trust this woman with Ian’s stuff. And she sighed mentally. Her best friend hadn’t been too far off today - when he had teased her in Russian about dressing up to come visit him - even if it was for the lovely brunette sitting next to her. But she wasn’t going to flirt with someone that was into Ian too much.

“Um, why don’t we go somewhere else and I can elaborate.” Lexy said finally. Maybe she could get a quasi-date out of this mess before Mandy Milkovich completely shot her down. Ian’s siblings were going to be taking up the next few visits so if nothing else she would have time to get over the utter humiliation.

“I have to go and run my brothers around but sure…” Mandy said, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully, “It’s been all work and no play lately. I could use an entertaining story time with food - if you know - dinner works for you?”

‘This isn’t a date. This isn’t a date. This isn’t a date.’

Lexy grinned at her, nice and slow, as her sunglasses were moved back into place, “Sounds like fun. I know a place that does two for ones on drinks.” She opened up her phone and a fresh contact place, “Enter your info Milkovich.”

Sticking her tongue out at her new - friend? - Mandy entered in her information and then handed the phone back, “Does 8 work for you?”

Scanning her calendar, Lexy nodded and entered in the information, “I will text you the address - look forward to story time - it’s a bit of a doozy.”

“I like those kinds the best.” Mandy said with a grin as the two parted ways. Internally they were both saying the same thing:

‘Just because this feels like a date - it’s not. It’s not a date.’

~~

Funny how at one in the morning, Mandy Milkovich wasn’t so sure this wasn’t a date anymore was she was pretty sure Lexy was flirting with her in the diner they were sitting in sharing fries after the restaurant had closed. They were sharing cheese fries and Mandy took a sip of her boozey chocolate shake.

Lexy had brought a flask with her. She liked a girl that planned ahead.

“So tell me something about YOU. Not Mickey, or Iggy, or what was the other one’s name?” Lexy waved a fry in the air and then punctuated the thought with it, “COLIN. That was his name.”

“About me? I like Katy Perry songs.”

Mandy giggled - she never giggled damn the vodka - at the blinking look of concern on her new friends face, “Don’t look at me like that!”

Hands held up in surrender, Lexy grinned and hummed, “I kissed a girl and I liked it….”

Mandy smirked, “Okay - that MIGHT have been the song that got me hooked - but only because blasting it in the house drove my brothers insane and out of the house so I could smoke the good stuff in peace.”

Lexy burst out laughing, “I like how you think lady.”

And then at three in the morning when they were out making plans for the week to meet up for pizza one night and maybe go to the second run theater to do commentary one one the god awful movies there, Mandy was about to get into her car when there was the sensation of lips on hers and then with a grin Aleksandra was gone.

But her lips were tingling and damn if that bitch hadn’t had on cherry chapstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muse!Mandy: I got kissed and my brother didn't. That is all I have to say.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: I am about to fucking go on strike.
> 
> Muse!Mandy: *grins deviously* Because I got to go for drinks and got kissed? While you are stuck in a cell with a red headed puppy that you havne't even noticed yet?
> 
> Muse!Mickey: I hate you with the fire of a thousand suns. I havne't gotten into trouble. I haven't done shit. That kind of growth deserves a reward - like at least a fucking blow job.
> 
> Muse!Ian: I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!!
> 
> Muse!Mandy: *rolls eyes* Of course you fucking do.
> 
> ~~
> 
> My muses love me to pieces. Really they do. I
> 
> I KNOW this is a Gallavich fic - and prepare yourselves as ther eis going to be some shit coming down and in the next few chapters. (Muse!Mickey: It's about fucking time dammit....) but if you all would like to see a one shot about Mandy's date - let me know.


	6. What Happens in Fight Club Can Land You in the Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fights will get you in the hole - and not in a fun, life-affirming way - in prison. But here comes the rub - when a fight inspires retaliation against someone who had nothing to do with the original fight, how much of a debt will be run up before the dust settles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer - because I wanted it to get us to a certain place in the story and for once the characters were cooperating. 
> 
> Also - I have a few things written for Mandy and her interactions with some of this Ian's outside influences. Would that be something you all would be interested in reading? Let me know! They are more Drabble/Snippets but I can expand them or just post them as is. But only if you all would be interested.

While it wasn’t very often these days - Mickey was sitting with the Old Timers and the guys his dad ran with when given the chance. His feet were propped up on a chair and he was listening with half an ear to them tell stories about the Cell Block. Part of him was thinking it would be in his best interest to listen more closely, and a larger part of him was struggling to give a shit. The not giving a shit part of him was winning. He sipped the water from his meal and then a name caught his attention and while he didn’t appear to be paying any more attention to things - he actually was. It wasn’t everyday these assholes talked about Gallagher after all.

“...it’s been what? Two years since the fight? You think they would let them be in the same Block? He wants to come back to this one ‘cause we are the good guys.” Evan was saying to Cyrus, “Gallagher should know better now right?”

“Gallagher - as it kills me to say it - wasn’t out of line for kicking the shit out of him. You don’t fuck with a man’s group like that in here. And TJ did. Gallagher did his time in the hole - but TJ - he ain’t getting back in here while Gallagher still is. That red headed bastard knows how to play the fucking game Evan. Why are you so damn amped to have him back anyway? He outranks your ass.” Cyrus said, eyeing the younger man curiously.

“He’s my damn brother.” Evan said with a snarl, “I should get to see him on something of a regular basis.” he glared at Mickey, “Hey newbie - you tell your cellmate that he needs to watch himself.”

Taking a slow sip of the water - Mickey leveled a look at Evan, “I don’t know what you think you know - but I ain’t telling Gallagher shit. You want him to get a message - you take care of it your fucking self jackass.”

Evan raised a brow and eyed Mickey with contempt oozing out of every pore on his body, “What did you just say to me you fucking newbie piece of shit? You think because your name is Milkovich you don’t have to earn respect? I asked you to do something - “

“An’ I told you what you can do.” Mickey said holding his ground. His eyes flashed and he calmly sipped his water, hoping like hell that he wasn’t showing more agitation than he needed to. Because Evan had been pissing him off for weeks and while there wasn’t proof - there was rumors he had been part of the cause for the lockdown. All of this - plus his disrespect of a person who COULD be making Mickey’s life hell and wasn’t - the shorter man felt like he owed Gallagher the respect of standing up for him. Not to mention Mandy would kill him if he didn’t. 

Stupid sisters and their stupid crushes.

His thoughts were derailed by the sound of a chair being shoved backwards on a cement floor and Mickey watched as Evan leaned over and invaded his personal space, mentally counting and still holding his ground, treating Evan almost like a wild and skittish animal. Calm vibes, no sudden movements and even tone of voice, “Sit back down man - this is nothing.”

Eyes were on them now, no one stopping what they were doing. He could hear the games of cards and checkers still going on around them. But you could feel the side looks and some blatant rubber necking. Mickey hated this shit - because the longer it took for Evan to find his damn common sense and sit his ass down and let this shit go - the closer they were getting to the point of no fucking return where someone was going to have to put the other in his place. As strong as the shorter man was, as scrappy as he was, he was in Evan’s zone over here. He hadn’t gone out of his way to piss anyone off and he was respectful. More because he wasn’t trying to be an idiot than genuine respect but still. But he was fully aware that these people sitting with him were going to have Evan’s back.

Silently he willed the other man to find his damn ass down and not do this shit like this. They were in the fucking common area. There were guards eyeing them. This was not where you did this shit. Unless you wanted to make a fucking statement. Unless you wanted to be the one that managed to take on a Milkovich and win. Because while Evan wouldn’t end the fight on his own - starting it and holding his own - would be a huge bolster to his credit in here. And in that moment Mickey realized something.

He was going to have to fight this asshat. And the people that would have had HIS back were scattered and might not get there in time. Ain’t this some shit.

He could hear Cyrus telling Evan to walk this shit back, now wasn’t the time or the place. But The hothead wasn’t going to listen - Mickey could see it on his face. In the set of his shoulders and the flare in his nostrils. This was going to go down and it was going to go down tonight. The water was set down and shoulders were rolled to loosen them up a bit. 

The look in his eyes when he met Evan’s was simple.

Bring it.

~~

There were things about this fight Mickey wouldn’t remember. Like the first punch - he literally didn’t remember. He didn’t remember the blows that fell. All he could remember was the surge of adrenaline that came with a fight. He remembered the feel of Evan’s hand gripping his shirt and the feel of a fist on his jaw. The idiot had hit him first. In front of everyone. Now it was self defense. Now there was a reason to fight back.

Before the guards to get there - three of Evan’s friends had gotten in on things and Mickey had held his own as best he could. But there were four on one and in this scenario - those weren’t the best odds. He had been crouching and ready to strike when the guards had gotten there. He was restrained with the others as everyone else was sent to their cells. That’s when something happened that Mickey hadn’t been expecting.

The call of ‘Door Opening’ came out and about five guys walked in and among them was a certain cellmate. There had been a special volunteer thing - along the lines of a ‘Scared Straight’ and Ian seemed to always sign up and now they were back. And Mickey saw the man pause and look right at him and then at Evan. Then back and forth. His jaw went rigid and he narrowed his eyes at Evan and Mickey couldn’t help be see the other man smirk at Ian - almost like even restrained like they were he was challenging him.

“Hey Gallagher - your little bi- “ but he didn’t get to finish that line because Ian was there in what felt like and in an instant had invaded Evan’s personal space. Just enough so that it wasn’t going to get him busted for instigating anything - but enough that Evan would shut up.

“Listen here Little Bitch, Mickey is Mickey’s. He seems to have gotten in his fair share - even with four on one odds?” Ian’s voice was low and had an edge to it that was unusual, “He ain’t mine, but let me tell you something - he’s my friend and if you think for a moment this is going to slide….”

“GALLAGHER GET BACK NOW.”

Ian’s hands went up in surrender and he backed away, but Mickey saw the set of his jaw and the ice in his eyes. He felt those eyes on him and he met them. Ian seemed to thaw a bit at the state of Mickey’s face and shook his head, “Fuck Milkovich - you look like shit.”

Mickey’s lip was split, his right eye was swelling shut, he could feel warm blood on his face and he smirked, “I am flipping you off Gallagher.”

“I am terrified. Really.” 

Mickey watched the red head get walked back to their cell and shook his head.He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with Gallagher and Evan - but something told him that had Evan done this shit with the red head in the room - the odds would have been a bit more evened out. It was a decent feeling.

~~

Four hours, a trip to the infirmary and a disciplinary hearing later he was sitting in Ad Seg. Alone. In a very small and spartan cell. He had been brought some books that he KNEW were Ian’s but had been worked in with his stuff. His face and ribs hurt. His knuckles were raw. And there wasn’t a Chatty Cathy keeping the silence from being suffocating. Like it was now. He leaned back against the cinderblock wall and sighed. 

A week wasn’t bad. Not really and he had only gotten that for not cooperating about what had instigated the fight. He really needed to figure out what the hell was going on with his cellmate and Evan. he didn’t like being in fights and getting busted for shit that wasn’t his own doing. If Evan hadn’t run his damned mouth and if he hadn’t pushed… Stripped to just boxers, a tshirt and without socks - Mickey was both annoyed and cold. And annoyed that he was cold. 

The next day he spent the day reading and ignoring the people in the cells around him. He took his hour in a work out courtyard and then ate alone - again. He spent the night mulling over what Evan had said - he had been about to call him Ian’s bitch. He knew it but Gallagher had kept him from being labeled like that. Because even if it wasn’t true - that word carried weight and he....he had kept that weight off of Mickey for the time being. Which meant he owed Gallagher and he didn’t want to owe that moron anything. But it seemed he did. Maybe he could get Mandy to write the moron or call him or some shit.

The rest of his time was spent pacing, reading and pondering what his friends were up to. So he was surprised when right after dinner one night there was a commotion outside that brought him to his door. Normally he didn’t rubber neck in this place - but he was bored as hell and he only had two more days. And there was fucking Ian Gallagher - swearing up a storm at someone just out sight line.

“You god damned son of a fucking whore - I am going to kill you - “ 

“GALLAGHER - shut your mouth - this isn’t the time or the place….” One of the officers - she was new and Mickey wasn’t sure who she was yet, “Calm down so we can get you into a cell to cool off….”

“He jumps MY ass and I am the one that is going into fucking Seg?” They walked Ian past him and there were enough room to see fresh bruises and a bandaged cut just under Ian’s ribs. Who the hell had gotten a jump on Ian? The idiot seemed to have a fucking otherworldly knack of just knowing and missing out on this kind of chaos.

“You are here to calm down. Once you are - we will get you back to your cell. Now sit your ass down and breathe.”

Then there was more commotion, even as he could see Ian purposely not looking at the other person - he saw it was someone that looked like Cyrus. But younger and meaner and his mouth was going as he was led past Ian.

“I swear to god you sad little….” 

“BETHEL! ENOUGH!” The new guard snapped, “Your cell is almost ready for you.” 

“ I ain’t backing down - he disrespected me!”

“I was EATING DINNER. Which isn’t a FUCKING red flag for harassment.”

“YOU KNOW!”

“Evan ain’t yours. What happens to him is none of your damned - “

“He’s one of my people - I fuckin’ - “

“You fucking back them blind hmm? You that fuckin’ dumb?”

“I know what I know! You ain’t getting away with this shit twice Gallagher!”

“I swear to GOD this moron on here - I. DID. NOTHING. TO. EVAN.” 

Even from his cell, Mickey could hear the frustration and anger in Ian’s voice. From what he could see through the narrow and grimy window in his door - the redhead was on a chair in the doorway to a cell. A guard on each side and his face looked rough. If this was the fallout from Mickey and Evan - this was because of him. Gallagher had been jumped because he had lost his shit. And that was adding to the debt that was owed to his cell mate. A debt Mikey was not looking forward to. Then there were the words that made his heart stop.

“Evan is protected fucker. You should know that.” There was heat and rage in the other man’s words. And Mickey prayed someone asked by who. The more he could hear from these two loud as hell morons.

Ian tilted his head and sighed, “You think I keep track of every moron and who they are currently running with? Like I don’t have enough shit to do.” He leaned back in the chair, body language giving off and nonchalant vibe that even from here was looking real laid back and uncaring. Mickey had to give him credit. Not everyone could be having this kind of conversation with his attacker and look like he was discussing baseball scores.. All bruised and slightly bloody - he looked like he was relaxing and killing time while waiting for someone.

“You ain’t gonna be happy when you get put in your place Red.”

Ian chuckled, “Will that person have the balls to come at me when I am not trying to fucking figure out what the meat product in my meatloaf is? Because I haven’t been jumped in that weak ass way in over a year - wasn’t that you last time too?”

“Keep your FUCKING eyes open you son of a fucking bitch!”

~~

When Mickey was released back to his cell block there was a different vibe. The distances between groups was larger. And the silences were a bit longer and heavier. But he arrived back to a warm welcome from most of the group. Dante and Ian were off at another ‘Scared Straight’ wannabe talks and Mickey was curious about things, so he did what anyone would do with access to Trevor. He asked.

“So, while I was in the Hole…”

“Well shit wasn’t boring.” Trevor said with a shake of his head, “You stirred up something.” A shit eating grin was on the slightly narrow face, “And man - I have to say - you looked good.”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey took a bow, “I live to entertain. What about the aftermath though?”

Theo spoke up quietly, “Evan was connected - and not how you think. His protector - You don’t go little when you make a statement do you?”

There was a small shrug, and a sheepish grin, “I really wasn’t thinking too clear. All rage and shit.”

“Yeah well - this guy’s protector is over in high security but he has soldiers everywhere - you pissed off the wrong bitch boy.” Theo said with a serious look on his face, “Anyway, the rest he can tell you when he gets back.”

A roll of his icy blue eyes and a small grin faded as the doors opened. Ian walked in and was already taking off his shirt. Yellowing bruises were on his ribs and there was a fresher looking bandage on his right bicep. He looked over and green eyes met blue and Ian sighed.

“Well, fucking hell - they let trouble back in.” was all he said on his way past and headed up the stairs, “I am going to relax till dinner.” He didn’t stop over. He didn’t give them a grin. He just went up to the open cell and flopped onto the end - Mickey could almost make him out from where he was sitting.

“Okay - when I saw him cooking off in Seg - that arm wound wasn’t there.” Mickey said with a scowl, “Who the fuck is going to clue me in.”

Theo and Trevor shared a look and then looked at Mickey. Finally Theo spoke, “Rumor has it that Evan is on your older brother's roll.” Theo looked at Mickey with a smirk, “And big brother doesn’t seem to believe that Ian isn’t tapping your pathetic ass. I mean - why else would he have tried to intervene on your fight - or stood up for you after? I mean - like a friend or some shit.”

Mickey ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “Fuck me.”

“I wouldn’t say that too loud.” Came a new voice and Mickey turned to see Cyrus standing next to the table, eyeing Theo and Trevor with annoyance, “I need to talk to him.”

“Then you can talk to me right here. They ain’t leaving.” Mickey growled and his eyes narrowed, “Which brother is it hmmm?”

“Evan worked a detail with Colin.” Cyrus said with a shrug, “And you went after someone protected by family.”

“So he’s Colin’s Bi-”

“He’s protected by Colin. What he does for that - I don’t know and I don’t ask. But you need to reevaluate your priorities Mickey. Come sit with me and we can come up with a plan.”

“He’s staying here.” Theo said quietly, but there was an annoyance, a strength to his tone as he looked at Cyrus, “Mickey can sit where he likes unless you are going to try and make a scene. And I wouldn’t. Between Ian and Steve being a loud little bitch - I haven’t had a lot of sleep and my patience is short.”

“You think that Colin is as far as this protection goes?” Cyrus chuckled, but there was nothing humorous in the sound, “Milkovich - “

“He can sit where he likes Bethel.” There was another voice, “If people aren’t claimed in a way that it’s known - well you know how things happen.” Dante took a seat and eyed Cyrus with a smirk, “Now you aren’t one of us, but if you are looking for a less stressful living environment….”

“You are gonna have to make a choice boy. Come back to the fold and get with your daddy’s program or things could get worse…” Cyrus shrugged and headed back to his table, leaving Mickey to watch him go before he turned back to the group he had actually MISSED during his time in the hole.

“What the fuck are my options. I think I am past the ‘ignore it and it will go away’ phase.”

Dante sighed, “Here’s the deal - from what I can figure out from contacts in other cells, Evan traded intel and part of his hustle to Colin for protection after he and Ian tangled last. Evan was supposed to get you on your Daddy’s side of things here in this cell and that didn’t work out so well. Now you have to choose - the Milkovich hard liners or you know - those of us that think your dad is a fucking idiot.”

Opening his mouth to defend his father was a knee jerk reaction and it was one that he managed to reign in, “I am not looking to make this place my second home.”

“Then you have another choice - you and Ian can fight this on two fronts or consolidate. And I can promise - the offer won’t come from him.”

Mickey glared at Dante, “You want me to do what? Bend over for Gallagher so that we can do what exactly?”

Dante ran a hand over his face, “Listen - I ain’t saying you need to take it up the ass for him. I ain’t saying you need to sit on his lap and call him pookie.” He grinned a bit wearily at Mickey as the rest of the table snickered, “But if you do that - let us know so we can sell tickets to see the look on his face. I am just saying - your family has connections, and knowingly or not you crossed them. Ian backed your move because he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that. So - you are getting support and he’s getting nothing in return…”

Theo rolled his eyes, “Gallagher made his choice. We have all been having his damn back - you sayin’ that Mickey owes all of us?”

Trevor rolled his eyes, “You take a shiv to the arm there Theo? I miss that?”

There was a silence at the table and Mickey looked around at them, “I ain’t no bitch - never have been or will be.”

Dante sighed, “Just think about it - safety in numbers and all that shit.”

Mickey rolled his shoulders and headed up to the cell a few minutes later. He leaned in the doorway and watched Ian read, “Hey.”

“Hey.” His voice was even and held no emotion. No anger or frustration. No annoyance or amusement. Just flat.

“I hear I crossed a line and took you with me. You didn’t have - “

Ian sat up and narrowed his eyes at Mickey, “I didn’t HAVE to. But I don’t leave a friend out to fucking dry when he crosses that line. If you would rather I stop and just send everyone your way….gladly.”

“It’s my problem.”

Ian blinked and there was a flash of annoyed hurt in his eyes, “So I have been getting shived in the fucking harm for nothing? Great to know.” he laid back down, “There is a card game tomorrow - in case you were curious. They are trying to alleviate the tension some more.”

Mickey just stood there for a moment and tilted his head, “Dante says I owe you.”

“Dante has a large mouth.”

“I ain’t anybody's bitch.”

“I never asked you to be mine. I haven’t asked for a damn thing.”

“But you are…”

“I am reading a book and pondering if I want to go ask for more advil for my arm.” Ian said, glaring at him over the top of his book, “Why don’t you go and make this shit worse and go back to the Hole so I can have peace and quiet.”

Flipping him off, Mickey hopped up into the top bunk and glared at the ceiling. Ian doing this kind of stuff and getting nothing in repayment didn’t sit right with him. But he wasn’t lying - he didn’t just…

But he needed to do something...Milkovich's didn’t owe debts. And he was in the hole to Gallagher. Stupid fucking red headed moron...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muse!Mickey: In the hole - seriously. *glares at Ian* I don't know why but this is all your fault you fuckin' moron.
> 
> Muse!Ian: It's my fault that we aren't screwing like rabbits with viagra? Yeah, Let me know how THAT is logical in your head.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: .... *glares halfheartedly*
> 
> Muse!Ian: *hides a grin in a beer* Want one?
> 
> Muse!Mickey: If I can't get laid - you might as well get me drunk.
> 
> Me: Hey look - Ian is coming home in my other work...
> 
> Muse!Mickey: *Grabs beer and Ian and heads over to letters from home*
> 
> Muse!Ian: *over his shoulder* Seems he likes me in uniform - army or prison.


	7. New Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed....new 'arrangements' have been made. Things seem to be settling...but for how long?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally set a timeline for this lovely part of this world. *tosses confetti*
> 
> I am so happy you guys are still reading and enjoying this! Thank you all so much!

Three months into this _’arrangement’_ with Gallagher and Mickey had to admit - things could be worse. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had changed. He knew that the Old Timer’s had stopped asking him to eat with them. He knew that there were looks - but for the most part - things seemed to be going smoothly. They hung out. They played cards and Mickey was learning chess. They verbally went after each other every chance they had - it was really like nothing had changed. 

But a lot had.

He felt like part of a group for the first time in forever. He was ‘with’ one of the leaders of the group. He had a sense of belonging and family. It felt a lot like what he had with his sister and Iggy on the outside. Like having each other’s backs and protecting each other’s asses when no one else would or did. And he was oddly okay with that. And it wasn’t like Gallagher had done some of the fucked up shit he had seen others do. There was no humiliation - no nicknames or ‘special’ requests. He wasn’t called a ‘wife’ or a ‘bitch’. He was just Gallagher’s. There wasn’t a scene made so everyone knew just _what_ was happening. Hell, half the time Gallagher just let him be.

There were times though - where Mickey realized just what it meant to be someone’s. Where being part of this fucked up, makeshift family shit made sense. Like when Dante had gotten word his grandmother was sick. Now, normally Mickey wouldn’t have given two shits about some old lady he didn’t know. But he did know her. She had stepped up when the crack head mom had stepped out. She had taken in four kids and raised them. She had been to _every_ hearing and court date. She never missed a visitation. She put ten dollars on everyone’s books every time she visited because she wanted them to feel like people with things to look forward to - not animals in a cage. And then she had gotten sick. He had never seen anything like it - it was like a fucking prison phone tree.

Ian’s family had taken over food, Theo’s brother was making sure the younger kids got to school okay and Trevor - well his aunt was making sure that Nana Cecelia’s meds were filled and that she had rides to the doctor. It was the craziest thing. Hell, even Mandy and Iggy had gotten in on the gig and made sure that the medical grade weed that she had been prescribed was the right type, that it was rolled and stored properly and that it never ran low. 

Family in prison. Of all the fucked up things he could do or find - this had to be in the top fucking five of his damned life.

And there was the sex. That had happened. And Mickey - who was possibly the most closeted gay man Ian had ever met - was finding that there was more times and places to get laid in prison than one would think. Especially if you got creative. And Gallagher was many things - and creative was definitely on the top of the list. And the fucker had been sneaky about it too. It had started out all ‘Well, I am not going to be all demanding because I don’t force people - that’s just fucked in the head.’ And then Mickey had been a little high and had said ‘Well, what the fucking hell, you might as well get something out of this shit.’ and there had been a kiss. A fucking kiss. You wouldn’t think that could do a damn thing. A small peck really.

And that is how the fucker had done this shit. He had started with that little fucking peck after lights out and Mickey had to know if it had been the weed (because it was fucking good shit for being in prison) or if it had been a thing. And so he had done it again sober. Ian Fucking Gallagher was a sneaky son of a bitch. Because it sure as fuck hadn’t been the weed. And that had led to hand jobs...that led to blow jobs….that had led to Mickey bending over and taking it up the ass like he said there was no way in hell he was going to do.

~~

_**A Month Ago…** _

_A perk of sucking Ian off at night was that generally he ended up sleeping down on the bottom bunk and wasn’t having to pole vault his ass up into the upper bunk at night. But that being said - there was also the fact that he was sucking off Gallagher and while he was getting better at taking more of him into his mouth, his hand was still needed to make up the difference. He had to admit - it wasn’t the worst thing in the world he could be doing. The feel and taste of the cock in his mouth wasn’t anything to complain over either. Running his tongue along the vein on the underside of that cock - he felt Ian shudder and he smirked._

_THere were worse things._

_It was hot in the jail and so most inmates were down to boxers and undershirts. Mickey and Ian were no different. Only this time as Mickey enjoyed this moment of power over the redhead, he felt a hand on his lower back. He didn’t think much of it - normally that hand was in his hair and he wasn’t opposed to a little hair pulling, but it could wander. Then it did….and he slowed his pace on the other man’s erection and came off it with a soft popping sound when the large hand landed on his ass. Eyed flew up to Ian’s face and were met by a pair of eyes that were peering back at him curiously. And while they looked at each other, Ian slipped his hand into Mickey’s boxers and rested on the firm cheeks under the boxers._

_The only sound in the cell was the heavy breathing of the two occupants. And they didn’t look away from each other as Ian’s long fingers stroked each cheek and then his index finger slipped between the cheeks and Mickey leapt back and looked at Ian with wild eyes. The younger guy lay there, cock out and hard, breathing hard and not moving for fear of startling Mickey more. THe brunet shook his head and went to get off the bunk and then he paused. He looked at Ian and the redhead just looked at him and licked his lips. Like everything else in this fucking cell and in this - whatever the fuck it was - Mickey seemed to have the last say._

_He had chosen to ally with Gallagher and his mismatched family._

_He had chosen the ‘repayment’ method for Gallaghers support._

_He had set this whole thing in motion and Ian had let him set the pace for this whole thing. He might want Mickey’s ass - but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pressure him for it. He would sit there and wait. And either Mickey came around or he didn’t. But there wouldn’t be any question about his willingness either way._

_And fuck him for that. Fuck him for making Mickey realize all this shit on his own. In this fucking moment.fuck him and his red hair and his fucking cock and….those lips. And eyes that saw too damn much. And that hand - fuck that hand and the way it had felt on his ass. Just….fuck all of it. Because fuck if he wasn’t curious now. And if the glint in Ian’s eye was anything to go by the gentle giant fucking knew it too._

_“Fuck you.” He whispered, “Fuck you Gallagher.”_

_“Well, maybe not the first time….but I am open to negotiations later.”_

_Mickey felt the corners of his lips twitch and he looked away and then glanced back to Ian and bit his lower lip and he went back to the bunk and Ian got off the mattress and raised a brow, as Mickey took a seat on the mattress and looked up at him and flipped him off, “I am getting mine before you get yours pushy, redheaded bastard.” and his mouth was back on Ian’s cock and he moaned around it softly as he felt Ian shudder again, this time leaving the other to brace himself against the top bunk as Mickey seemed content to swallow him whole._

That had been a month ago and things were still going good. Mickey was actually not getting his ass into trouble, he was doing what he was supposed to do. To day his sister was stunned would be an understatement. To say that she gave Ian all the credit was NOT an understatement. A point of contention with her brother that did surface from time to time. And this was one of those times. 

Mickey kicked Ian in the shins as he walked by to take a seat at lunch,glaring at him over a letter from Mandy, “My sister says to thank my keeper for keeping my ass out of the Hole. I think she must be confused about somethin’.”

Dante grinned as he dumped the lemonade packet into his water bottle, “Well, Ian does have some shit going on in regards to your ass don’t he?”

Mickey flipped his friend off and glared at Ian again, “What the fuck man?”

“Well, you haven’t been in the hole, you are actually working towards your GED and you aren’t getting shived for being a fucking smart ass.” Ian ticked items off on his fingers, “You are welcome?”

“Yeah, I am chose - “ Mickey stopped and looked at Ian who was doing his best to NOT look at his cellmate/lover/pain in the ass but rather seemed very interested in the food on his tray for lunch, “You fucker.”

“Pardon?” Ian said as he ripped open a mayo packet, “I am eating lunch but maybe on a smoke break? I need to keep my strength up.”

Theo joined them at that moment and glanced over at Dante who just rolled his eyes and mouthed, “We should have sold tickets.” and jerked a thumb over at Ian and Mickey. Theo settled in with a smirk and started to mix his own lemonade as the show kept going. Now that it was known that Mickey was under Ian’s ‘protection’ - the rest of the prison was seeing a bit more of the shit show that the inner circle had been seeing since day one. Theo had to wonder if maybe they should be selling tickets.

“You have been….this entire fucking time….” He glared at Ian who just gave him a smirk and a shrug. So while Mickey was setting the pace for the physical side of things. Ian seemed to be guiding Mickey along on the other side of things. And really - he should be pissed as hell. And he was in a way. But at the same time he was almost impressed at the subtle way that he had been played.

“How is your life going hmmm? You are earning good behavior time, you are improving your chances of not losing a limb at the meat packing plant, your sister isn’t on your ass, and you aren’t spending more time than necessary in the hole. I am not seeing a downside.” Ian said, shooting Mickey a look, “Seriously - are you gonna have issues with this shit?”

Blue eyes narrowed at Dante and Theo who were suddenly VERY interested in their lunches, “And you two knew that this was all going on? Seriously?!”

Theo held up his hands, “Hey man - I thought it was all for the best - I mean look at you - almost got your GED don’t you? Shits falling into place? You might be a one and done. We will tell stories about the way you ‘reformed’ and shit.”

Ian snorted in amusement, “Mickey? Reformed?”

“Okay - so he’s ‘reformed-ish’” Theo said with a grin and he dodged the napkin from the brunet on the other side of Ian, “Hey now - I am trying to help you out here.”

“Hey - he isn’t reading to the elderly or some shit. He’s doing the bare minimum reform that he can do.” Dante said with a wink at Mickey, who was fuming and glaring at all of them, “I mean - he is the -” He looked at Ian, “Significant other?”

“Fuck that.” Mickey grumbled and flipped off the table at large, “He’s a Significant Annoyance.”

Ian rolled his eyes and flicked Mickey on the ear, “Fuckface.”

“Asswipe.”

“Will you two stop flirting the sap over here is turning me off of my lunch.” Theo said with a roll of his eyes.

“Lunch is turning me off of my lunch.” Ian muttered.

~~

Off in the back corner sat an old man, age and anger having carved deep lines in his face. His head would have had thick silver hair - but he kept it trimmed to an almost Army regulation cut. He watched as his nephew carried on at his table of misfits and his fist clenched on the table. He hadn’t believed Terry when his younger brother had told him that Mickey wasn’t falling in line. The boy had always been a good soldier - one of the ones Terry had thought of leaving the business too…

But now - he wasn’t the one GIVING the protection and reaping the benefits - he was seeking it? A Milkovich?

Hank Milkovich narrowed his blue eyes at his nephew from afar and wondered what his next move should be. Because there was something there….something that was just telling him to bide his time. To wait until there was a better moment to remind Mickey of where his true loyalties lie. And he would remind him in spades.

But not just yet.

The redhead next to him stood up and the elder Milkovich sneered at him from behind his napkin. Fucking Gallagher. He wasn’t like his father had been. Frank had been easily used and tossed to the side once his purpose was done. But this one - he had a brain and brawn. He wouldn't be as easy to dispose of - and an Alpha personality like that? There was no room to try and bring him into the fold. 

No, he would have to go - and his nephew would pay his penalty and be brought back where he belonged. 

All in due time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muse!Mickey: I FUCKING - 
> 
> Muse!Ian: I banged your brains out. Yes. You are welcome.
> 
> Muse!Mickey: *smirks* But I am the one setting the pace - so bite me Firecrotch.
> 
> Muse!Ian: Well, since you asked....
> 
> Muse!Mickey: Bitch - we are in prison - if you do that shit where people can see I will stab your ass myself.
> 
> Muse!Ian: Kinky....
> 
> Muse!Mickey: *side eyes him* You ain't TOTALLY wrong...

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in ages....but I was reading some Gallavich drabbles and I just got inspired. There are more chapters coming and I promise I will be getting back into the swing of things. There will be more Gallavich on the way - but they have to figure some things out first...like living together in a cell and not killing each other. And how Ian tends to win at poker only when there are certain snacks being bid.


End file.
